Run
by Legna the Sorcerer
Summary: Trapped. Sieghart must run, to find the exit before time runs out. A short story written on a whim for a 100-theme challenge. Uncertain genre.


_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

My footsteps echoed loudly against the metal floor. Or maybe it was the echo of the clock. My mind wouldn't tell me which.

"Run, run, as fast as you can, before your end draws near." The voice those words belonged to sent shivers up my spine. I ignored the words and the shivers and continued running.

I turned a corner, to find a dead end. I went the other way. Dead end. Time wasted.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

Back the way I came, time lost. It felt as if my breath was being torn from me, but I couldn't stop, if I wished to escape alive.

The shadows consumed the path in front of me. Purple spheres emanated from the inky blackness. I heard giggles, as if devilish schoolchildren were lying in wait.

"_Run, run, as fast as you can_," they taunted. I growled and ran towards them. They wouldn't scare me. No, I will make it out, and then I'll laugh.

My fingers met nothing as I tried to grab a pair of purple orbs. I felt only a chilling cold seep through me, and I shivered again. The gladius that hung at my side would be useless then.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

"Sieghart the immortal, Sieghart the legend, Sieghart the lost." The voice cackled at me, taunting me again. Every second made it harder to ignore everything.

I ran forward once more, faster than ever. This maze will not hold me forever.

And then a growl. The hound of Hell was loose. I had to run, but that was my only option anyway. The hound was nothing more than ethereal, but it fed on the soul, and mine was bound to satiate the beast.

Panting, dripping with sweat, I tore the jacket off my shoulders and threw it on the ground. Why didn't I get rid of it sooner? Escaping alive was more important. Common sense told me to throw away my gladius, which was even heavier, but common sense also told me that to toss away my only weapon. . .

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

"I hope you like dogs."

Behind me.

I turned around, to face the black, misty beast. A giant dog, black slobber like its body, sharp bloody teeth. . . The hound of hell. Its blank, white eyes were set on me, or rather my soul, the soul of an immortal blessed by the Highlander Gods.

"I hate dogs," I hissed, then turned and ran. How much more time did I waste?

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

Though an ethereal mass, I could hear its heavy, pounding footsteps mixed with my panting, footsteps, and the ticking. The infernal sounds would drive me mad.

I prayed to the Gods that I ran into no dead ends, lest my end be met by the hound of Hell. To have no soul with an immortal body would be mean death.

My path was wild, but the hound had my stench; every left I went, it followed. Every right I went, it followed. There was no escaping.

My heart raced, I felt as if I was going to die. How long has it been since I ran, looking for the end? _Was_ there even an end to this nightmare, or was I doomed to run for eternity?

_Tick. Tock. Tick._

Then it appeared in front of me. It looked eager, with its tongue lolling out, ethereal ears perked, tail wagging.

"You should take a break, Sieghart. Your old bones can't handle such extraneous exercise."

"Shut up!" I croaked, my throat dried from running. "I'll make it out, and then we'll see who'll be laughing!"

"But this isn't funny."

The ends of the hound's mouth turned up, giving it such a demonic, eager look. Its black droll pooled around its feet as it slowly advanced upon me, step by step.

Weakly, I stepped back, inch by inch, too slow to escape the hound. Soon I was sitting on the floor, head low, breathing raggedly, sharply.

My head turned up. The hound's muzzle almost touched my face. Its grin was eerie; it showed all its jagged, blood-stained teeth, strings of black drool dripping down slowly. Opening its mouth slightly, I could see nothing but blackness in its mouth. I could smell nothing, no rank stench, nothing foul.

Then it spoke.

"I love to run, but even _I_ know when to stop." The voice again. . .

"Get away from me!" I whispered.

"As you wish, Sir Immortal. I wish you a pleasant life."

The hound's mouth closed, it backed up, head down in submission. . . What trickery was this?

A final glimpse of its teeth, and then it vanished into the wall.

Why did it not take my soul? Why. . .

Then I heard it. The silence. The terrifying, agonizing silence.

"No." My voice threatened to crack. "No."

I got up and ran.

The exit. . . No. . . No!

Where was it? _Where_?

An outline. Two heads higher than me, two arm spans in length. Closed, eternally.

"The sands of time have run out for you, Sieghart the immortal."


End file.
